


who are you?

by captainfile



Category: Original Work
Genre: Eating Disorders, Essays, Mental Health Issues, Nonfiction, Personal Growth, Real Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2020-10-28 10:27:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainfile/pseuds/captainfile
Summary: i haven't had a therapist in a little while and i can't get one as soon as i'd like to, so i'm just writing out my response to some big questions my mom asked me on the phone: what about the four plans you came up with, what's stopping you, what do you see in your future, what's your ideal day, what can i do for you, what if there were no outside factors and you could do whatever you want, what are you going to do about it. i didn't tell her, because i needed time to think and she isn't a therapist let alone my own. but here it is.





	1. ?

**Author's Note:**

> some trigger warnings: the last time i wrote about my feelings like this is was basically a suicide note but to myself, so there will probably be some heavy influences in here from self harm, self hate, general anxiety, depression, and a loss of appetite from depression. 
> 
> also, kamala khan is what i named my precious cat, and i'm catholic. 
> 
> i used to read a lot of depressing shit on ao3 when i was suicidal to feed that impulse; if that's what you're doing here, turn right the fuck around, please. i just wrote this out to sort through my personal goals and ambitions, and acknowledging part of what's wrong with me.

“what do you see?” 

where do i wish i was? 

three meals a day would be a good place to start. i wish i could stomach three meals a day. then all my pills. really, i wish i didn’t have to take them. 

my ideal day is a sunday; i wake up at eight sharp, i make myself something with eggs for breakfast, i clean up and shower and head out by quarter to ten. church is down the street. my friends go there, and i chat with them and worship with them, and maybe i leave at nine thirty to volunteer to greet people outside church. 

when the service is over i go to the farmer’s market and pick myself up some honey. i have to take the bus, but i like taking the bus. the farmer’s market has music and treats and sunshine, even when it’s chillier. i can pick up apple butter and honey and maybe some other goodies i don’t know about yet. i have lunch at one and then sit down and study for a few hours at home. 

at five i leave for mass, which is only a block further than where i went in the morning, and it lasts for an hour but i always make sure to shake the priest’s hand and take a short walk around the park to read the bulletin. i make myself something hearty for dinner, like chicken parmesan or a taco or kielbasa. in the evening, i wind down with a good book and soothing skincare, and i turn my phone off at nine before i make kamala khan her dinner. my lamp goes off at eleven. 

on weekdays i wake up at nine sharp and eat something with eggs for breakfast, but always switch the flavors and textures up. i study and relax until noon, when my classes start, and eat lunch after my first class. on tuesdays i have to bring a snack with me to tide me over because my lab goes from noon to two. on thursdays i make myself lunch at home because i only have a four o’clock. 

on weekday evenings i have dinner with friends and sometimes i have a night in to myself; when it’s time for bed, i wind down the same way i do on sundays. 

i want a routine. i want to ability to follow a routine. nothing feels in control, nothing feels regular, and sometimes, nothing feels like anything. right now i eat at most one meal a day, if that, and i’m on the max dosage of my antidepressant. i take six different vitamins and supplements, i rub magnesium lotion in my elbows, i drink water and milk and protein shakes. 

but i can’t find the energy to go to class or church or the grocery store some days. i can’t get up and shower, i can’t focus on my homework, i can’t empty the litter box, i can’t wash the dishes. i know what i have to do, but i hit a wall when i go to move. my feet don’t support me and my eyes go dark. my arms don’t listen. my stomach growls. my brain refuses to think. 

i wish i could spoon feed myself back to health, because i’m the only one who’s allowed to do it. i’m an adult; my parents won’t let me die, but they won’t let me give up and go to a hospital or other institution. i don’t hurt myself in a visible way. 

but people are supposed to dine like kings before noon, or graze all day on nutrient rich foods. i want bacon and eggs and strawberries and homemade waffles for breakfast, spinach in my smoothies, trail mix slowly being taken from my backpack. i don’t know what’s stopping me, but it hurts. 

i’m not losing weight, but it feels like i’m losing life. it’s likely i am; people are supposed to eat in the first place, after all, and i’m not keeping up. my body is freaking out because it’s supposed to spend seventeen hundred calories a day but it can’t afford to. i have to sit in the shower because i get winded just staying upright. 

still, kamala eats and i take my meds. 

i want to graduate. maybe i’ll be a nun, maybe a florist, maybe a dentist. i have the idea. 

“what are you going to do about it?”


	2. who who? who who?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will admit that "who are you? who who? who who?" is the only the who lyric that i know because i watched their london olympics performance but didn't pay any attention. it pops into my head every few months. same warning applies as in the first "chapter" (?) but also i'd like to add that there's a lot more faith talk in this. beginning and ending phrases are texts that my bible study leader sent me when i missed an event. this isn't what i wish i told him, though, i just thought it fit.

hey girl! all okay? 

how did october go? i can’t even remember. i only wrote a few things down as they happened. sometime in september, i was meditating on how much of a mess i was- still am, really. i was praying and received the idea to step back from the internet for october. i have a number of vices that i pulled away from, or vowed to pull away from, for the month. i wanted to use the month as a break, but it ended up as more of a learning experience. about myself and the world. i can’t tell you anything happening in the news, but i know so much more about my city and my nearby friends because i put myself in a spot where those two things were right in front of me. 

week 1 was exactly what i wanted. i ate 3 meals a day the entire week- don’t even know how i did it. the energy continued even though i got my period, but i still got shit done. i got so much homework done. i went out into the city and walked, rode the bus, visited the farmer’s market. 

week 2 didn’t go as well, but i was still on track. i was tired, and a bit discouraged, and feeling lonely. during week 2, i spent a lot of time praying just to pass the hours, because i so wanted to just veg with the sims or something, but i wanted to keep going, too. 

week 3 kind of sucked, because i got sick, and then my cat decided not to react well to a change i had to make in her diet. my room smelled and i was sick for 8 days. i missed a few classes. by the time i was well enough to go talk to my academic coach, she said i was being too tough on myself, but i don’t really agree- i can’t afford, literally, to be sick, because i’m already sick in the head, and that messes things up enough. 

week 4 was a mess. i browsed the internet and justified youtube videos, tetris, reddit- i felt so guilty, but i was so bored and unhappy. every time i closed a page, i told myself that i could restart the fast, stop right then, but i didn’t, for some reason. the good thing to come out of week 4 was that i took the bus and went shopping for stamps to mail my friends, candy for my cousins, and food and toys for kamala. the air helped relieve some of my frustrations. 

week 5 was amazing. i had a spiritual renewal, it was ace awareness week, it was my birthday week, my family visited, i got new clothes and lots of food so i had three meals a day again. to add some icing to my good week cake, i was nominated to lead in my student org for a specific event and for a yearly position. i didn’t get much work done, but i got back on my fast and felt a lot better. 

the month is over now, so i’m back to my vices, and it’s been a very screen-oriented couple of days since halloween. i still haven’t gotten any work done, even though i really should. it’s two in the morning now so tomorrow, i guess. i wish i could go to the library, or go for a drive and see the stars, but i don’t have a car, and my whole school has bed bugs. my roommate is having a breakdown, too, so i have to pick up extra chores, but i don’t mind if it helps her. i’ll pretty much do anything for others, but nothing for myself. her struggle is the reason i’ve gotten up and done things the last few days, funny enough. i wish i could get that energy back from week 1; guess i have to figure out what my next invigorating personal challenge that forces me to focus on my work is. 

i feel better, though, than in september. i’m breathing a little easier and i feel more at home in my apartment. academically i’m definitely not improving- quite the opposite- but i have the want, if nothing else, to do well. i always have. it’s carried me this far, and it’ll carry me further; not any validation of my appearance or my smarts, but plain old fashioned achievement. as my to do list grows, i want to sit down and plow through it. life isn’t always that easy. but sometimes it can be. 

i understand. missed u tho


	3. here we go again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> named because i feel stuck in a loop, so i named this semester's folder in my google drive "ah shit" and this is "here we go again" even though i have no idea what that meme is from. questions are from jacksepticeye's video where he answers personal questions. i got freaked out when he admitted to having suicidal thoughts and continued to listen; in response to having them, he apparently told himself that it was wrong and abnormal, and then took a week to ask himself, what have i done? what have i accomplished? who am i? and what do i want to do next? (paraphrased). since i've kind of already been doing that, i decided to follow his example, and be comforted by his reassurance that he's doing much better now. well, i'm not doing better now. but it was definitely an exercise in positive thinking.

what have i done?   
it’s intimidating to think about. my first answer is “nothing good.” my first reaction is of horror; what have i done? what mistake, what treachery or unethical thing has occurred? my brain takes this phrase to mean that i’m at fault for something bad. but this isn’t the context, right? we’re trying to think, here, trying to heal. i have to force that hand, force the new path for my brain to take. i don’t want to just be theoretical in my positive thinking, but i don’t want to trivialize my own actions by being to specific. so here goes. all the good big things i’ve done in the last three or so years. i have applied and been accepted to college, dated my best friend for a few months, taken in an elderly cat, dyed my own hair, learned how to do makeup, learned some polish, grown basil, built furniture, vacuumed, painted, learned braille, taught braille, watched my grandma, driven hours on my own, cooked for myself and my friends, learned to ski, graduated high school, moved away from home, played the sims, watched movies, lifted heavy boxes, attended pride, attended a farmer’s market, performed a solo, joined a student organization, applied for and been accepted into a leadership role in my student organization, led a group discussion, attended a wedding, and bought groceries. 

what have i accomplished?   
this phrasing holds more appeal. i have a wish for accomplishment, for achievement. awards and titles fuel me in games like minecraft, the sims, mariokart. accomplishments are clearer; they’re numbers. i got a 1470 on the sat. i graduated high school. i was accepted at the college of my choice. i have received a’s for my work- more than one. i completed super mario galaxy, found all the stars. i received kudos on ao3, got a comment. i’ve been placed on a student leadership team. these things are more factual, much easier to pull from memory, but they don’t usually come up. in this context, it doesn’t matter, because now they have. 

who am i?   
in a class i failed the semester before last, my professor had us all go through the following eight aspects of identity: ability, age, ethnicity, gender, race, religion, sexual orientation, and socio-economic status. i’m not about to have my identity stolen, i can answer those in my head. i don’t think i lie to myself about any of them. 

what do i want to do next?   
when i realized i lived to graduation, which is funny because that feels like forever ago and i’m worse now than i was then, i realized i couldn’t just run out into life and wing it. not only does that not feel good, but my family, friends, and school wanted to know what my intentions were in life. according to my religion, i don’t have the answers. so i came up with a few. the first is what i saw when i was twelve; become a dentist, easy enough, hardy har har. the second is to become a florist and spend my days in a greenhouse. some might say those are polar opposites, but i like both, i think. the third is to become a nun. again, different. i was pulling at straws. i don’t know where these ideas came from, just little things in life that gave me peace that i wanted more of; i’m not sure if i’ve had any more ideas like them since. once i left for college, people expected me to have these answers ready. maybe they went through something similar. but i’m not fresh-faced at my school anymore, and the question has moved from what i want to do to how the hell i’m going to do it. my straws are about action, about work, rather than dreams. take a semester off, go part-time, fuck off and live with my cousin, fuck off and backpack around europe, get a job, volunteer with nuns, move back in with my parents, check myself into a hospital. none of these truly appeal to me. i can dream of moving to poland, herding goats and selling fresh-clipped irises, but i loathe to think of actually doing it. what about the friends i’ve made here? do i even deserve that life? can i afford it? the degree i’m working towards wouldn’t be relevant. it would be wasted time and wasted money. i suppose that’s because i’m depressed.

**Author's Note:**

> 1-800-273-8255 is the number to the US national suicide prevention hotline. they're really chill and nice if you're in a tight spot, and can give some solid advice that's hard to think of when you're in the thick of a mental breakdown. don't be afraid to call if you need help; they can also point you towards resources in your area if you don't know where to go or can't afford it or have to sneak past some restriction put on you.


End file.
